Winter's Reminiscence
by Androgene
Summary: When an amnesic Ito Ryo aka Kudoh Yohji meets an old flame in New York, a single perfect moment of love was created. Yaoi, pls don't read if you don't like guy on guy, YohjixAya, crossover with Bartender, Weiss Side B timeline FINISHED
1. Chapter 1

Name: Androgene

Title: Reworx: Winter's Reminiscence - 1

Summary: When an amnesic Ito Ryo (Kudoh Yohji) meets an old flame in New York, a single perfect moment of love was created. YxA, crossover with Bartender, Weiss Side B timeline

Category: drama, romance, crossover (WK x Bartender)

Rating: R (for being yaoi)

Disclaimer: The series Weiss Kreuz and Bartender belong to their individual creators and studios. I do not make any profits or monetary gains from this story. In fact, it's additional contribution to my monthly electricity bill.

Author's Notes:

This was in the making for a very long time. I had always wondered what would happen if Yohji and Aya were together and then Yohji lost his memories. YxA fans always patch them back together, and honestly I want them back too. But what if Yohji's memory loss is permanent like it seems in the manga? What if Yohji was to meet Aya again under such circumstances? Ahhh, the possibilities…

I read a number of fanfics where Yohji split up with his wife in one way or the other. I think I want to do something different. For me, there is something very romantic about lost love.

For the longest time, I couldn't get the tone of this fic right. I decided to write it in first-person, but I couldn't grasp Yohji's voice correctly or paint the mood right. In my initial efforts, Yohji came across as either whining or complaining too much, not the mood when someone is thinking back on good ol' times. It was frustrating and I gave up.

Then I happened to stumble across a new anime series on crunchyroll (.com): Bartender

I got curious, since I had worked in a restaurant that had a bar. It's a very short series, about 11 episodes, but its accurate depiction of bartending was impressive. The creators must have done plenty of research. It was not a flashy anime, but low-key with a very distinct style. Its strong points are how the stories are portrayed and the atmosphere it sets.

Briefly, there is a bar called Eden Hall in Ginza where a genius bartender is known to be able to concoct the most amazing cocktails for his customers. Customers making their way to this particular bar always end up with a drink that best alleviates their moods and problems for them. All the recipes used in this anime are real and very drinkable.

And that's where I got my inspiration: reminiscing in a bar.

And that's when I ran into a whole new set of problems: trying to depict and keep the atmosphere of 'Bartender' in character, and hunting for cocktail recipes that would best fit the story *sigh* At worst, I could always go perch myself in a bar and start drinking (that would certainly blow a hole in my wallet).

Anyway, I strongly encourage any reader to go watch Bartender first before reading this.

Hopefully, I kept everything in character.

**Winter's Reminiscence - 1**

Bar.

A place where drinks and spirits are served and people gather after a long day's work to relax and unwind. To drink with friends, to drink alone, it doesn't matter. Leave your worries and troubles at the door. For the next few hours, just kick back and relax. A bar's duty is to gently, subtly chase away the fatigue and frustrations. When a customer leaves happy, it is a bar's greatest pleasure.

Deep in the backstreets of Ginza, in a quiet corner easily missed by passerby, stands a plain nondescript door. In the glitzy ocean of the city lights, the discreet shine on the door's small silver plaque is simply overlooked. There is nothing on the door that will welcome a customer save the name of the bar engraved in elegant script on the plaque.

But pluck up your courage, push open the door and enter…

X

Welcome to Eden Hall.

No modern décor here, no expensive sophistication or ostentatious elegance, just plenty of rich polished dark wood paneling and old-fashioned comfortable seats under intimate lighting. Cozy, quaint and inviting, beckoning the customer forward. The low murmur of voices ebbs and flows in a soothing cadence as you searches for a seat. Feel yourself unwinding with every step, the day's fatigue draining away as you step deeper into the bar.

Before you know it, you find yourself at the bar counter and a warm voice greets you: "Welcome."

X

He is young, the bartender, with a friendly smile and warm clear eyes in a gentle face. His dark hair is neatly slicked back and his white long-sleeved dress shirt, tie and vest were pristine and neat. He gestured demurely to an empty barstool. "You seem to be alone tonight, sir. Would you like a counter seat?"

Smile and accept the seat, and please, allow me to introduce you to the bartender who knew my dark mood just from my hands and soothed my frustrations – the Kami no Glass, Sasakura Ryuu.

X

Sasakura Ryuu embraces the life of a bartender with a passion and love that belies his quiet, friendly demeanor. He has served countless customers, the regular and those who drifts in and leaves, never to return again, the polite ones, the shy ones, the rude ones and the unreasonable ones. No matter who they are, Sasakura tries his best to ensure they leave Eden Hall with a pleasurable experience.

Tonight, one of his customers keeps drawing his attention.

He sits alone, in a quiet corner at the counter, with a bourbon on the rocks. He was a salary-man by his looks: white long-sleeved business shirt with loosened tie, black slacks, jacket and coat. Blond hair cut short, tall and lanky, the customer has long-fingered elegant hands more suited to an artist than a salary-man. One hand props up his chin as he gazes into the distance, his thoughts clearly faraway; the index finger of the other hand absently rests against his bourbon glass.

The bourbon has been the customer's first order, half an hour ago, and it still remains untouched. The customer himself emits a wistful aura completely at odds with the festive atmosphere in the bar.

Sasakura is getting somewhat concerned.

X

"Excuse me."

Green eyes blink and come into focus.

"I'm sorry for my intrusion. I can't help but notice…is the bourbon not to your taste, sir?"

His customer looks down at his untouched drink and back up at the faintly worried bartender and smiles ruefully. "It's fine, really. I'm sorry, I guess I'm not in the mood for bourbon tonight after all."

Sasakura smiles in relief. "I see. Would you prefer something else?"

"I suppose." His customer's gaze drifts to the entrance when the door momentarily opens as a customer leaves, letting in a gust of wintry chill. "The snow is really coming down tonight."

"Yes, it is." Sasakura glances at his customer.

The blond's rueful smile has disappeared and his wistful mood returns.

"Are you waiting for someone?" Sasakura asks tactfully. "Your wife, perhaps?"

His customer looks startled and glances down at his hand. "Ah, you saw the wedding band."

"Hai."

"You are very observant."

Sasakura smiles placidly. "I suppose you can call it an occupational habit. A bartender always notices his customer's hands."

"Why is that?"

"A customer's hands speak the customer's mood. It aids a bartender in helping the customer to feel more at ease."

The man chuckles. "I suppose my mood is that obvious, especially since most of your customers are clearly in the holiday spirits."

Sasakura is greatly encouraged to see his customer's mood lighten but he can still feel the loneliness engulfing the blond man.

"My wife is working the night shift at the hospital," the man continues. "I'm alone tonight." His gaze strays again to the front entrance. "The snow is beautiful, isn't it? So white and pristine…when the light shines upon it, it glitters like precious gems or stardust, a beautiful thing to admire from afar…like a dream. But, hold it in your hands, the snow's glitter is diminished and up close, it is nothing more than ice and water…an illusion gone, or a beautiful vision you can't take hold of no matter what."

Somehow, Sasakura gets the strangest feeling that his customer is not talking about snow.

His customer sighs and turns back with a smile that didn't seem at all joyful. "I think I would like to try something else. Something sweet and…bitter."

Thus begins the mystery of Ito Ryo with Eden Hall.

X

There is a reason why people call Sasakura the Kami no Glass: his uncanny ability to concoct the perfect cocktail for the mood and occasion.

Sasakura simply calls it empathy and intuition, and a healthy dose of creativity.

This isn't the first time he is given a vague order with very little clues to work on. He knows nothing about his blond customer and the reason behind his wistful, nostalgic mood. He thought of some of the more common drinks but for one reason or the other, none of them seems suitable for the blond wistful customer – except for one.

In his mixing glass filled with ice, he deftly measures out the ingredients: 2oz Jack Daniels, 1/4oz Apricot liquer, 1/4oz Orange Curacao and 2 dashes of Angostura bitters, and stirs. It is a simple recipe to make, but his movements draws the eye with his precision and grace. With a subtle flourish and an elegant bow, Sasakura presents the finished cocktail to his customer.

"Bittersweet Jack. Dozo."

X

Ito takes a sip of his new drink. A look crosses his face that Sasakura cannot decipher, a look filled with many emotions. "Yes. This…this is what I'm looking for tonight. It brings back memories."

"Good memories?"

"In a way." Ito gently swirls the drink in his hand, green eyes lost in memories. "A good dream. Bittersweet Jack, eh? The taste…it certainly reminds me of my time in New York with him."

"A friend?"

"No…an acquaintance…no, that isn't right either…" Ito looks to the door again. "I met him on a night like this…"

X

I met him on a night like this, a night of quietly falling snow on a city that was already covered in a white glittering blanket. It was in New York, a year ago, when I went there for business. I had managed to conclude the deal sooner than expected but I couldn't get an early flight home, so I was forced to stay put in New York on, what was essentially, company-paid holiday.

I was lonesome. All alone in a foreign country, in a strange city that didn't speak my language, and without my wife to share my impromptu holiday with me. So like any lonely man in need of company, I visited the hotel's bar. The bar was crowded that night, but I managed to find an empty seat at the counter. I ordered one of this: bourbon on the rocks. And just like today, I realized I wasn't in the mood for bourbon. But I didn't want to order anything else, so I made do with it.

X

Ito smiles wryly at the bartender. "As far as I can remember, that was the first time I drank alone. Isn't there something, like an unspoken rule for bar customers? You know, something that goes along the line: don't drink out of self-pity."

Sasakura laughs lightly. "One of my regulars told me that before. He calls it the Bar's Ten Commandments."

"It's a good rule to remember. I was drinking out of self-pity that night. It didn't make the bourbon taste any better. I don't recall how long I stayed at the hotel's bar, sunk in my own holiday blues. But I became aware of the customer sitting down next to me. I can even remember his order."

"What did he order?"

"Earl Grey."

Sasakura blinks. "Earl Grey…tea?"

Ito grins. "Yes, Earl Grey tea. In a bar. I didn't know anyone who goes to a bar and orders Earl Grey tea. So he caught my attention." His smile turns dreamy and his voice fills with wonder. "And I couldn't look away."

X

The customer who sat down next to me that night was…beautiful, just so…beautiful, almost otherworldly. My reaction to seeing his beauty was akin to a punch in the gut, so sudden and pronounced was it.

His smooth complexion was as fair as snow and he had an arresting face – chiseled masculinity with a delicate exquisiteness. He had red hair – I don't mean the carroty kind of red or strawberry blond kind – I mean red, as in the color of blood, so deep and pure that it shone crimson under the artificial light. I've never seen hair that particular color before and against his white skin, it seemed even darker and richer. But it was his eyes that captivated me. I would _never_ forget those eyes - they were the most amazing shade of amethyst – deep, rich and so mysterious. Against his red hair and pale skin, the color of those eyes should seem garish but it didn't. Rather it only emphasized the otherworldly beauty and elegance of the man.

He took my breath away.

I must have stared too long for those unusual amethyst eyes of his suddenly turned to me.

'Am I disturbing?' he asked in this soft baritone voice.

'No, not at all.' I blurted out quickly. I felt my cheeks burning. 'Sorry, I don't mean to stare.' That was when I realized we were conversing in Japanese. 'You're Japanese?'

'Hai,' the stranger replied.

I smiled, relieved to have stumbled across someone from home. 'I'm Japanese as well. My name is Ito Ryo.'

'Fujimiya…Aya.'

'Nice to meet you, Fujimiya-san.'

'Nice to meet you as well, Ito-san.'

I wasn't sure if he truly meant it. His expression was non-existent and he did not meet my eyes. An awkward silence fell between us. He did not seem inclined to break it and I was reluctant to, already embarrassed by imposing upon him.

'You seem depressed,' Fujimiya spoke again, much to my surprise. 'Is everything all right?'

'If you are referring to accidents and what-nots, I'm fine. But yeah, I'm feeling a bit down. It's the holidays and I'm stuck here in New York for a week before I go home to my wife.'

'You're not here on vacation with her?'

'No, business trip. It concluded earlier than I thought, so I have plenty of time on my hand now and nothing to do. What about you, Fujimiya-san? Are you here on business as well?'

He nodded.

I wondered what sort of business he was doing, for he was dressed plainly: black woolen turtleneck and black leather pants and heavy boots. He had a thickly furred jacket draped over his lap. A silver choke-chain with a small silver cross gleamed discreetly against his turtleneck.

'Which part of Japan are you from?' I asked out of curiosity.

'England.'

'Sorry?'

'I'm living in England now. I migrated there some years back. And you?'

'Tokyo.'

'With your wife, I suppose?'

'Hai.'

Fujimiya's smile turned wistful. 'I haven't been home in years. Do you mind telling me what's going on in Tokyo?'

X

"That was how I got to know Fujimiya-san. We were both homesick and lonely and we ended up talking way into the night. Or rather I talked more than he did. He was a quiet man, reserved, but he didn't make me feel uncomfortable. Rather he encouraged me to talk. I must have told him every little bit of what I knew was happening in Toyko, even the inconsequential ones."

Ito props his chin on his palm, a thoughtful look on his face. "Come to think of it, that was the first time I truly felt comfortable with someone I just met. It felt as though I already knew him."

"It sounds like you have found a friend in New York," Sasakura comments.

"Iya, it wasn't quite like that." Ito's tone turned wry. "I was very attracted to him."

X


	2. Chapter 2

Name: Androgene

Title: Reworx: Winter's Reminiscence – Part 2

Summary: A lingering memory of a single perfect moment of love, to be cherished. When an amnesic Ito Ryo (Kudoh Yohji) meets an old flame in New York, what will happen? YxA, crossover with Bartender, Weiss Side B timeline

Category: drama, romance, crossover (WK x Bartender)

Rating: R (for being yaoi)

Disclaimer: The series Weiss Kreuz and Bartender belong to their individual creators and studios. I do not make any profits or monetary gains from this story. In fact, it's additional contribution to my monthly electricity bill.

Author's Notes:

Readers and to those who have left their feedback, thank you very much! Here's the second part. Hopefully, I can wrap everything up in three parts.

**Winter's Reminiscence – Part 2**

I didn't realize it at first though.

Fujimiya told me since he had stayed in New York before, he could show me around. I eagerly took up his offer. I thought it was because it meant that I wouldn't have to be alone and bored out of my mind during my week of free time. It never occurred to me that it might be due to my attraction.

Rockfeller Square, Madison Gardens, Times Square, Empire State Building…

I had a grand time in New York, visiting these places and more with my newfound companion. Fujimiya was a good guide. He made sightseeing interesting. He showed me the different aspects of the Big Apple and even explained some of the cultural peculiarities that I didn't understand before. I was also so envious of his fluent grasp of English.

'Where did you learn to speak English so well?'

'I was forced to learn,' he stated. 'My flatmates banned Japanese in the house, so I have no choice.'

'Ouch.'

'They meant well,' Fujimiya quickly defended. 'They just want me to fit in and be comfortable as quickly as possible.'

'Still…ouch.'

'It worked though. Come, there's a place near here I want to show you.'

Gradually over the days, I found my interest shifting from the sights to him. Be it Tokyo or New York, a city in winter always appeared drab and grey, despite the colorful holiday lights and festive window dressings. For me, Fujimiya was the one vibrant point of beauty that stood out from the somber grey.

It wasn't just his physical looks or the fluid grace of his movements. It was also everything else about him I found irresistible. He was a very composed man, coolly polite to strangers and unusually focused – he noticed things a normal person would never notice. Sometimes his observations were startlingly different, yet extremely enlightening, when he pointed out little things and gave his views to me, views that otherwise would never occur to me. He was extremely well-informed; I get the impression that he was very well-traveled. He seemed to understand much of the world around us, especially the darker and seamier side of it, and that fascinated me completely. I had already witnessed one accident during my stay in New York, gawking at the massive three cars pileup like most of the passer-bys. When I saw the paramedics finally carrying the injured people, I blanched at the sight of their injuries. But Fujimiya wasn't fazed, nor did he even comment on the accident. He watched, but he was calm and the look in his eyes…it was hard to describe. Somehow, he gave me the vibe that he was all too familiar with death.

That didn't turn me off, surprisingly enough. Instead, the realization strengthened my attraction to him. I suppose, it was a combination of that vibe with the aura of mystery and strength he wore so comfortably. It made him so attractive that I couldn't stop looking at him.

I was forever staring at him, when he was not looking, mesmerized by his grace and beauty. In a manner, he was so ethereal that I had to battle the temptation to touch him just to assure myself that he was real. The itch was strong and getting stronger with every moment I spent with him.

One day, I couldn't resist anymore. I reached out and brushed my hand through his red hair.

Fujimiya stared at me, startled.

'Gomen nasai, Fujimiya-san,' I apologized, feeling my cheeks turned hot. 'You had some snow on your hair.'

That was a complete lie and I knew he knew it. I thought he was going to hit me for touching him in such an intimate manner. Instead, Fujimiya blushed and quickly walked away, much to my astonishment.

I stood there on the sidewalk, gaping stupidly like a fish, joy fighting with incredibility that he hadn't reject my overture outright. That was the first time I saw his composure faltered. I had truly expected him to be angry. After all, men simply don't do such things to another man unless they were gay. I hadn't expected him to blush.

It seemed that Fujimiya was also affected by my touch as well. He didn't see or hear the out-of-control taxi skidding across the icy road towards him.

I did. It jolted me from my shock and I dived madly for him, grabbing and yanking him out of the way. My violent move threw the both of us off-balance and we tumbled down to the sidewalk in a heap, just as the taxi zoomed past us with its honk blaring madly and crashed into a building a block away from us.

My head throbbed. For a long while, I laid on the pavement, stunned.

'Ito-san! Ito-san!'

I couldn't react, staring blankly at the concerned face filling my vision. Up close, I could see the worry and concern swirling in those beautiful amethyst depths. I wasn't sure why I was on the ground.

Then I remembered.

Without thinking, I gently touched his pale beautiful face. 'Aya…daijoubu, desu ka?'

Fujimiya's eyes widened. For some reason I didn't know, I managed to render him speechless.

Gingerly, I sat up, wincing at the throbbing pain in my head. Somehow, I had managed to twist our bodies around so Fujimiya wound up landing on top of me and I took the brunt of our fall. I carefully felt the back of my head. To my relief, my fingers came away bloodless.

'You're hurt.'

'I'm fine,' I replied. We stood up, I more slowly than him and carefully checked my body. Everything seemed all right, except for my throbbing head. 'What about you?'

'Don't worry about me. You pulled me out of the way.' Aya averted his gaze, seemingly embarrassed. 'Thank you.'

I smile. 'I'm glad you're all right.'

'We need to get you to a doctor.'

'I'm fine.'

Aya glared at me. 'You hit your head. Let the doctor be the judge of it.'

He was so insistent that I decided it would best to humor him. Although I was sure I was all right, it warmed my heart to see the normally composed Aya so concerned for me.

The doctor's verdict came as no surprise. He prescribed me some painkillers and an ointment and told me to admit myself immediately to a hospital if I felt any dizziness or nausea. I suppose, for someone who had been living a sedate and uneventful life, I got off lucky.

Still, the rest of the day was ruined. It was getting late by the time we emerged from the clinic. Neither of us was in the mood for any more sightseeing and we decided to head back to the hotel. Aya's worry had faded; either that or he had it under control. He was back to his composed self again.

For me, I couldn't help but to think back to the afternoon. It had been eventful, but it was not the near-accident that filled my thoughts. But rather, that brief moment when I had tackled him, kept replaying in my mind. His warm body pressing against mine, his elusive but attractive scent filling my nose…that moment had felt so right.

I finally had to admit to myself that I was attracted to him and it was a troubling thought. I didn't know why I felt such a strong attraction to him, didn't know if he truly felt anything for me in return. Was it a crush, an infatuation, a momentary attraction because I was bored and lonely? Hell, I didn't even know I could be attracted to someone of my own gender. Furthermore, I was a married man!

Needless to say, we were both very quiet on our way back to the hotel.

Aya followed me back to my room, presumably to make sure I was still all right. I didn't know what he was thinking, though his somber expression hinted at some inner worries. When he emerged from the bathroom with a glass of water, I made a decision. I needed to determine if my attraction to him was simply out of lust or something more.

When Aya handed me the glass of water and a painkiller, I put them aside instead and stepped close to him. Despite my decision, I was so nervous. My hands were shaking as I gently framed his face in my hands. I didn't dare to look at him, simply concentrated on my fingers cupping the delicate curves of his jaws. His skin was so very smooth to my touch, like warm satin and I could smell his scent again – that irresistible elusive musk that drew me closer.

Finally, I found the courage to look into his eyes. They were wary, bright with turbulent emotions I couldn't understand.

Aya stared at me for a moment longer. Then, slowly, his eyes fluttered close and his body language softened, silently giving me permission to proceed. He stood very still in my careful embrace, allowing my fingers to explore his pale cheeks, the strong bridge of his nose, the softness of his lips…I ran my fingers through his silky crimson hair, couldn't resist stroking the shapely curve of his ears or the graceful column of his neck. He had a sensitive neck, I discovered. He quivered when I explored the fine scar line encircling his neck, dragged my fingers down to the hollow in his collar bone.

In the charged silence of my room, I was falling headlong into the proverbial rabbit hole. I couldn't stop touching him, learning his features and his body with my hands and fingers. I forgot about my wife, and that I really shouldn't be doing this. I forgot everything except him. I was completely enthralled by this beautiful, enigmatic creature.

Slowly, bit by bit, Aya began to relax beneath my caresses. When I stroked his cheek, he leaned into my palm, his soft exhalation leaving a puff of warmth on my wrist. I felt a surge of victory. He was surrendering, I could feel it. Aya wanted me as well. I cupped the back of his head and curled my free arm around his slim waist.

'Aya,' I murmured against his forehead before placing a careful kiss upon it. With the same care, I kissed him on his lips, gently, chastely. Once. Twice.

'Don't,' he whispered against my lips.

I ignored his feeble plea and kissed him again, deeper, my tongue gently seeking entry and he gave it to me. He was sweet, like spiced honey. The taste of him combined with his elusive scent went straight to my head like fine wine, I instantly hungered for more. I kissed him harder and he responded with a passion that took my breath away. By the time I broke the kiss for air, I was feeling incredibly hot and hard in my pants.

Dazedly, hungrily, I stared at Aya's flushed face. His shallow and rapid breathing was a counter rhythm to my own. His eyes were closed and he remained pliant in my arms. My gaze fixated on his kiss-reddened lips and I had to kiss him again. Things were spiraling out of control and I was helpless to stop it. Hell, I didn't want to stop.

'Stop…'

But caught up in my own desire, I didn't hear his voiced pleas to stop.

'No!'

The distress, sharp and clear in his voice, stopped me as effectively as a bucket of cold water thrown over me. I quickly released him, confused and conflicted. I realized what I had done but even so, I still didn't want to stop. Seeing him disheveled and with passion conflicting with distress in his eyes made him even more desirable to me; I had to force myself to keep my distance.

'Aya,' I began awkwardly, 'I don't-'

He just shook his head, cutting me off. 'I have to go.'

I watched in helpless silence as he headed for the door. 'Would I see you tomorrow?'

He paused.

'Please.'

He hesitated and then nodded once before leaving.

X

Ito pauses and takes a sip of his drink. He looks at the attentive Sasakura. "Maybe we should add another Commandment? Customers should not confess to the bartenders about their sins."

Sasakura smiles sympathetically and shakes his head. "People come to bars to forget about their troubles, to lighten the weight of their burdens. They are not really talking to the bartenders; they are conversing with their hearts."

"That is a novel way to put it."

"It's unlikely you will remember me after you've left. But your heart will feel lighter and that's all it matters."

"Thank you, you're very kind. I hope I'm not offending you. It's not everyday you hear this sort of story."

"Not at all," Sasakura's smile is serene.

"I couldn't sleep that night. So many things were going through my head. I was troubled when I realized I didn't feel any shame kissing Aya. I had broken my marriage vows but I wouldn't hesitate in kissing Aya again. When I asked myself if it was with someone else other than Aya, I totally balked at the idea. I guess those were the signs that I felt more than just simple lust and attraction for him.

The question was: what am I going to do about it?

I love Asuka, but at the same time, I wanted to be closer to Aya. Any decision I make wouldn't be fair to either Asuka or Aya. I needed answers badly so I decided I would have a heart-to-heart talk with him first thing in the morning."

"Did you manage to speak to him?" Sasakura gently prompts when Ito remains silent.

"No. I didn't get to see him for two days."

X

I couldn't find him at the breakfast buffet the next morning. Called his hotel room and there was no answer nor did he left me any messages. I couldn't get through his cell phone either. You can imagine how disappointed I felt. So many questions kept plaguing me, so many 'what-if' scenarios running through my head that I got a constant headache. I had no one to talk to. Discussing this with my wife was simply out of the question and the person I most wanted to see had disappeared. By the second day, I had completely given up. I was due to leave the next day and he still hadn't showed. I was convinced I had offended him and he wanted nothing more to do with me.

So when he did show up again at my hotel room door, I was caught completely unprepared.

'Konnichiwa, Ito-san.'

I gaped at him for the longest moment.

'May I come in?' Aya asked politely.

'Y-yes!' I stammered hurriedly.

After two days of not seeing him, his presence hit me again like a truck. Dressed entirely in white, he looked really good. A little tired, yet the dark circles under his eyes didn't detract from his beauty. I was overjoyed, nervous and curious.

'Where were you for the last two days?' I blurted out. 'I couldn't reach you at all. Were you avoiding me?'

'I was called away on business. Some problems had cropped up that needed my attention. I didn't have time to let you know.'

I heaved a sigh of relief. 'Business, huh? I felt so bad about what happened that day. I thought I had offended you.'

'No, I wasn't offended. To be honest, I-I didn't stay away purely because of business. I needed some time alone to think.'

'Oh.'

The silence between us was uncomfortable. I was keenly aware of the attraction between us and all the problems I was now facing, and yet for all my rehearsals and planned speeches, I hadn't the slightest idea how to broach the subject.

'Aya, was that your first time with a man?' I asked hesitantly.

He shook his head. 'I had a lover once.'

'Ah,' my voice trailed off awkwardly. So it wasn't the gender factor, I was relieved to find out. I took a deep breath and decided to just plunge into it. 'I like you, Aya. I never thought I would feel like this for anyone else, especially a man. But I like you. Spending the last couple of days with you, I was very happy. I really want to be closer to you, to get to know you better.'

'What about your wife?'

'I-I-'

Aya closed his eyes, pain written clear on his face. 'You can't give her up, can you?'

He was right. I couldn't give Asuka up. She was my anchor to reality. Five years ago, when I woke up in the hospital with no memory, she was the only one who cared and helped me to build a new life. I want Aya badly but I love her as well.

'I'm sorry,' I said wretchedly.

He turned his back to me. 'You can't have it both ways.'

'But you can't deny there's something between us.'

'It will never work out between us.'

He sounded so convinced that there was nothing I could say in return. I was at a complete loss for words, racking my brain for something to say when a completely daring idea struck me. 'At least stay with me till tomorrow.'

'…What?'

'Forget about our lives, my wife, your troubles, everything till tomorrow. Take this as a…a fling, a temporary escape, I don't care what you call it. Just stay with me.' Braving uncharted waters, I stepped forward and clasped my hands on his shoulders. I continued to say quietly, 'I'm leaving tomorrow, back to my life in Tokyo. In all likelihood, I won't see you again. So please…spend this day with me. Let me have a memory to bring home.'

'…Memory?'

'Hai, a memory.'

Aya turned to face me again, his expression one of astonishment. 'You want a memory of us together?'

'Yes.' His reaction puzzled me.; I wondered if I had offended him again. 'Is it such an offensive idea to you?'

He shook his head. 'I'm just…stunned.'

'Why? If I couldn't have you, then a memory is the next best thing.'

Aya shook his head, clearly speechless with surprise. 'You really want to remember me?'

'Yes,' I replied as sincerely as possible.

'You won't…regret this?'

'No.'

Aya's expression turned serious. 'You honestly won't regret this?'

'I won't,' I promised firmly.

Purple eyes intently searched my face. 'Very well. But this is a one-time thing, it ends tomorrow. Don't ask me anything, don't press for answers. If we do meet again, I won't acknowledge you.'

'I understand.'

'Even so, you won't regret this?'

'Yes. But I won't forget you,' I had to add.

An odd expression crossed Aya's face before he nodded. 'I accept.'

I broke out in a wide smile. 'Thank you, Aya.'

I leaned down and gently kissed him. This time, he did not hesitate and responded immediately. I felt his arms encircling my neck, his slim body pressing against me and I tightened my grip about him.

One day.

I was determined to make it one of my best days ever.

X


	3. Chapter 3

Name: Androgene

Title: Reworx: Winter's Reminiscence – Part 3

Summary: A lingering memory of a single perfect moment of love, to be cherished. When an amnesic Ito Ryo (Kudoh Yohji) meets an old flame in New York, what will happen? YxA, crossover with Bartender, Weiss Side B timeline

Category: drama, romance, crossover (WK x Bartender)

Rating: R (for being yaoi)

Disclaimer: The series Weiss Kreuz and Bartender belong to their individual creators and studios. I do not make any profits or monetary gains from this story. In fact, it's additional contribution to my monthly electricity bill.

Author's Notes:

This is the last part and as usual, I got stuck at writing the lemon scene. I hope it fits the mood of the story. Hell, I hope this part didn't detract much from the overall tone of the story.

I guess I'll take this chance to reply to some of you who have so kindly left me reviews:

(From MediaMiner)

To Amet: Yeah, I've watched 'Winter Cicada' as well and I realize this echo a bit of it. At least, in this fanfic, nobody dies. I like 'Winter Cicada' a lot – I find it very haunting. A cicada transforming from a larvae to its adult form just as winter approaches is suicidal at best. There is no way a cicada can survive the winter cold as an adult and it aptly describes their love – in the turbulent time of civil war and unrest, their love wasn't given a chance to grow.

MikaSamu: Thank you. I tried my best to give this a beautiful, sad wistful feel.

DC4U: It is interesting, isn't it, with him being married and attracted to Aya at the same time. I haven't got a chance to think about it yet but I suspect it will most likely land him in the same situation he tried to escape from in the first place – guilt.

Roxie Faye: Thank you, thank you. It is a relief to know that I managed to capture the right tone.

Marie: I've got the ending all written here. Hope you enjoy it.

Some of you asked how Aya is feeling in this fanfic. To be honest, I have no idea. This story was meant to be seen through Yohji's eyes, although I tried to put in enough clues and innuendoes, so those who are familiar with Weiss storylines should catch on pretty quickly.

I don't think I would write a sequel to this. It sorta meant to be a stand-alone.

**Winter's Reminiscence – Part 3**

"Sir?" Sasakura prompts gently when Ito falls silent again.

But Ito does not hear him. His heart and mind are turned inward to his memory of that one perfect day.

X

Aya was everything I hoped he would be, and more. He was reticent, yes, but his amethyst eyes spoke his heart's longing more clearly than any words could.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from him as he reclined against the plain white pillows and sheets before me. The sight of his nude beauty would be forever burned in my mind: sleek shoulders and a well-defined chest that tapered down to narrow hips and long muscled legs. What startled me were the multiple scars littering his body, marring the pale smoothness of his skin. I had to consciously bite my lip to stop the questions spilling out of me. He had so many scars! And yet, oddly enough, the scars did not ruin his beauty. It simply made him even more breathtaking in my eyes.

Appalled, yet fascinated, I slowly explored the map of scars, from his knee up his thigh, to his washboard stomach and across his chest. He had scars everywhere. Some were long thin lines, some rounded and some I couldn't tell. Many were faded but there were still equally many that were fresh and pink.

I actually recognized some of the scars. Their mirror images were reflected on my own body as well. When I woke from my coma years ago, the doctors had identified the origins of my scars, and therefore I knew the injuries I had received were uncommon. I might not remember but I knew guns and knives simply had no place in an ordinary life. I had to ask, this couldn't be just coincidence.

But when I met his gaze, all my questions died in my throat.

His expression was guarded; beneath his crimson hair, his eyes were carefully neutral and did not quite meet my gaze. He seemed ready to bolt and it struck me how vulnerable he seemed. Beneath my palms, I could feel the wound tension in his body. I could sense his internal fight against his instincts to cover himself from my gaze. Aya had consciously bared himself to my scrutiny, I realized, against his natural inclination to hide.

His courage touched my heart.

Never mind his scars; I just wanted him to be comfortable with me. I leaned forward and kissed him firmly. 'Don't worry, I won't ask.'

His eyes widened briefly in surprise and with a barely audible sigh, he visibly relaxed. I sensed his surrender in every nuance of his pliant body, the tension draining away and all I am left with was a willing lover. His mouth opened to allow me to plunder at will as he yielded completely to me.

Plundered I did, gladly and greedily, exploring the warm moist sweetness of his mouth, swallowing his moans of pleasure as I stroked and caressed his body into heated passion. A nibble at his ear evoked a whimper, quick licking bites along the graceful column of his neck made him gasp. His head fell back, his hands cradling my head, urging me onwards. When my trailing kisses reached the junction between his neck and shoulder, I bit down and was rewarded with a sharp cry of surprised pleasure. He moaned deliciously when I sucked and licked heavily at the love bite and my ardor surged even higher.

I think…I think I might have done this before – making love to a man.

I knew how to encourage him to spread his legs just so, so our arousals met and rubbed against each other incessantly. It seemed natural for me to worship his nipples, tweaking and flicking them with my fingers, and later to suckle and tease with my mouth and tongue. He liked that, little mews of pleasure escaping him as his chest arched up against my mouth.

My hands needed no guidance as I stroked downward and cupped his tight buttocks, squeezing and kneading the twin melons. My mouth trailed downward even further, scattering kisses across his stomach and down to his groin. The skin of his inner thighs was smooth and soft against my hands as I found myself unconsciously hitching his thighs up higher until they were resting over my shoulders. I didn't hesitate to gently grasp his weeping cock in my hands nor did I think twice before licking him from base to the head.

I welcomed the choked cry leaving Aya's throat. A rush of fierce joy filled me as his back arched and he thrust his hips involuntarily up against me. He fell completely apart in my hands as I took him into my mouth.

I really must have done this sort of thing before.

He bucked hard and I instinctively, quickly held his hips down lest he choked me. Aya didn't last very long. I could feel his body straining and trembling; his cries increasingly loud and urgent until, with one last passionate shout, he spilled himself into my mouth as he came. I swallowed his cum as quickly as I could, but there was so much of it, I could feel the excess trickling from the corner of my mouth down my chin. He collapsed back against the bed, chest heaving with every pant. He didn't move when I released him and crawled up his sweating flushed body.

I had to smirk at his stunned expression and glazed eyes. I felt inordinately pleased. Though this is my first clear memory of making love to a man, I was quite smug at the result I had wrought. 'I take it you enjoyed that.'

Amethyst eyes blinked and finally focused on me. His pale slender hand reached up, a slim finger wiping away the trail of cum from my chin. He seemed pleased, incredulous but pleased. I didn't know why but his reaction made me feel like I was the best.

'Yes,' he answered huskily, 'I enjoyed that very much.' His fingertip, damp with his cum, lightly rubbed across my lower lip. 'But there's more. I want you in me.'

Oh…dear, for all my rediscovered skills in making love with a man, I drew a complete blank at his request. 'Um…' my voice trailed off embarrassedly.

'It's okay. I'll guide you.'

He pulled me down for a deep thorough kiss while his other hand reached down and grasped my erection. I groaned into his mouth as he stroked my arousal with experienced hands. Shoulders hunched as I supported myself on my elbows above him, I broke the kiss and buried my face against his neck, gasping at his every sure stroke.

'Aya…' I shuddered. 'Stop…or this…aah!...will end too quickly.'

To my relief, he did. But my torment did not stop there.

I watched riveted as he lifted his hand stained with my pre-cum to his mouth. His smoldering amethyst eyes held my enthralled gaze effortlessly as he daintily licked his fingers. He put one slim finger into his mouth and slowly sucked it clean, thrusting the digit in and out of his mouth suggestively.

I couldn't take it anymore. I lunged forward and pulling his hand away, roughly ravished his mouth. 'Aya…' I gasped in between kisses, 'I can't…I need to…show me…'

'Lube,' he panted into my searching mouth. 'You need lubricant…of some kind.'

Pulling away was agonizingly painful. I stumbled to the bathroom and quickly returned to my lover's side with a bottle of the hotel's complimentary hand lotion. 'Will this do?'

He nodded and impatiently pushed me onto my back. Straddling my waist, he quickly coated his fingers with the lotion and leaned forward towards me. He braced one hand against my chest, his other hand reached back to his own bottom. From my angle, I couldn't see what he was doing but his expression twisted with explicit pleasure. A long shuddering gasp left him as his eyes fluttered close. I stroked him to full arousal again, feeling each thrusting tremor of his fingers pleasuring himself in the movements of his hips.

Finally, he pulled his fingers free and straightened. Shifting backwards, he reached down to my hard cock and guided it to his prepared opening. Heated purple eyes not breaking my gaze, he slowly and firmly impaled himself onto my erection in one long slow motion, pushing downward until finally, he sat fully on my groin, my hard throbbing cock nestled deep within him.

'Oh God,' I moaned.

I couldn't move, couldn't breathe. He was so tight, so hot, clinging to my cock like a well-fitting glove. I instinctively bucked and Aya threw his head back in pained pleasure.

'Wait!' he gasped out. 'I need a minute.'

I forced myself to lie very still, waiting for him to adjust; his hips would be covered with finger-sized bruises from my death grip by the end of the day.

Finally, with a deep shuddering breath, Aya began to ride me – lifting his hips up until I was nearly free from him and then pushing down, taking me back in. Up again, and down again, slowly, I shuddered as his channel clung and stroked my cock like a lover's hand. I fell into the rhythm he set, as he rode me – slowly and steadily at first, then the pace quickened with every heartbeat.

Watching Aya coming unraveled in his passion was the most exhilarating experience I have ever had. Lovemaking had never felt like this to me before, even when I made love to Asuka. I watched spellbound as his composure shattered and he transformed into an alluring creature of passion as we made love. With every thrust, every sound of pleasure he made, I wanted him more and more until I couldn't control my lust any more.

I lunged upwards and flipped him onto his back, grasping his wrists and pressing them down against the mattress, holding Aya pinioned beneath me. I was free now to move and my thrusts became hard and furious, taking pleasure in his utter submission. His legs wrapped tight around my waist; his gasps were loud in my ears as he matched my passion with every stroke until we cried out our pleasure together as our climax peaked.

Spent, I collapsed fully onto him; my cock still nestled within his warm wet channel. I felt his hands weakly cradling me close and I was pleased. At least he was as drained as I was. We lay entwined for a long time, savoring the peace and closeness between us.

When the haze of passion and lust finally cleared from my mind, I had the vaguest and most disturbing feeling that we both had made the most horrible mistake during our climax.

It hadn't been his name that I called out when I came.

Neither, I realized, had he called out mine.

'Aya?' I asked hesitantly.

'Yes?'

'…' I was reluctant to spoil the mood but my curiosity was getting better of me. 'Who's Yohji?'

Aya sighed. 'Someone I love. He…went away a long time ago.'

'Oh.'

He gently stroked my head, his fingers threading through my sweat dampened hair. 'Does it bother you?'

'No,' I denied quickly. 'Just curious.'

'Hn…liar.'

Bracing on my arms, I looked down curiously at his flushed face. To my surprise, he was smiling. I should be angry but how could I be in the face of that beautiful smile? It was small and faint but nevertheless, it was still a smile that softened his eyes and made him seemed younger. Also, how could I be angry at him when I made the same verbal blunder as well?

'Aren't you going to say anything, you know, about me calling out…um, her name?'

'No.' His smile only grew wider. My breath caught as he deliberately tightened around my cock, urging me to full arousal again. 'We'll do better,' he promised.

And we did.

X

"Sir?"

Ito blinks startled. "Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts again. Where did I stop?"

"You were saying something about Fujimiya-san agreeing to spend a day with you,'" Sasakura prompts gently.

"Oh yes." Ito smiles at the memory. "We only had one day and we made the most of it. It was the happiest day I ever had. We didn't leave my hotel room. That day, the world beyond the four walls didn't exist for us. We were completely enthralled by each other. Making love, talking, learning and exploring each other's habits and bodies…_We were lovers_."

His smile turns wistful.

"But it was just a dream."

"What happened?" Sasakura inquires softly.

"He was gone the next morning."

X

I knew I had fallen asleep with Aya wrapped in my arms.

But when I woke up in the morning, he was gone. All his clothes, his shoes, his elusive scent, everything that he brought with him were gone. Even his half of the bed was cold to my touch.

I was…bitterly disappointed. I had looked forward to waking up with him, maybe even spending one more morning with him, but he had left. I didn't even know when.

So I called his room. There was no answer.

I called the concierge and they told me that he had already checked out hours ago.

I didn't know what to make of it. I was stunned; I felt played, cheated. If he had checked out hours ago, it meant that he had left me some time during the night. He had not chosen to spend the full night with me and I don't know why.

He left me with nothing but the memory of that one perfect day for me to remember him by.

X

"To this day, I still do not understand why," Ito continues, "he chooses to leave me like a thief in the night. Was it to avoid an awkward parting? I don't know and I don't think I would ever know."

He sighs aloud. "So I came back to Japan. A full year passed, and tonight I sit here in a bar I've never ventured in before, remembering…I've not forgotten him or that one perfect day we were lovers but today, the memory haunts me. I was _complete_ that day, whole again. I've never felt like that before and I don't believe I would ever experience it again. Do you know I have not spoken of it to anyone ever since I came back? You're the first."

Sasakura gazes at his despondent blond customer sympathetically. He recognizes love when he sees it and his blond customer has clearly left a piece of his heart with the mysterious red-haired man, though he may not know it. He also recognizes guilt for a perceived sin and that is something Sasakura feels the man should not suffer from.

"It may be presumptuous of me to say this, as I do not know your friend nor have I ever had such an experience, so I hope you wouldn't mind my intrusion. Although your memory of that perfect day is like the snow – a dream or a vision that vanishes when held close – nevertheless it has a strength that snow does not have. It has the strength to keep you going. You may rue it but I can tell that it puts warmth in your heart whenever you think about it. On a bad day, such memory can comfort you and lift your spirit."

Even as he speaks, Sasakura is building a different cocktail in a highball glass: 3cl gin, 1cl pisang ambon, 7cl sprite, 1cl lime juice and topped with 1/2cl grenadine.

"Such happy memory is hard to come by. And sometimes, such memory is the only way to love someone without being torn between two people." Discreetly, elegantly, he pushes the completed cocktail to his blond customer.

"What is this?"

"Red Velvet."

Ito stares at the bartender and then at the drink. Cautiously, he took a sip and an expression of complete surprise crossed his face. "This…this reminds me of him…How did you-?"

Sasakura smiles gently. "Nobody would blame you for cherishing a precious memory."

There is a long moment of silence before Ito returns his smile, visibly moved. "Thank you. Your assurance is more than I expected."

Finally, Sasakura could sense the loneliness within his blond customer dissipating. "It's my pleasure."

In companionable silence, Ito finishes his drink and rises to leave. "I will not forget what you have done for me, despite your earlier claim. Thanks to you, my heart feels lighter. Thank you again."

"You're welcomed," Sasakura escorts his blond customer to the door. "It's still snowing pretty heavily. Please, be careful on your way home."

"I will." Ito pauses at the foyer and looks up at the night sky. "I think I'll make an early New Year resolution."

"Right now?"

"Hai. When or if I do see Aya again, I must apologize to him."

"Why?"

"Because I lied to him. That night when we made love, it wasn't my wife's name I called out."

Sasakura cocks his head curiously. "If I may ask, whose name was it?"

"I don't know," Ito sighs. "At least I don't think I know anyone who goes by the name of 'Ran'."

Ito turned up the collar of his coat and stepped out into the falling snow. "Good night, master, and Merry Christmas to you."

"Merry Christmas, sir."

X

Many years will pass, many different faces will cross and leave the threshold of Eden Hall, and though he never sees the blond customer of that winter night again, Sasakura will never forget him.

He will hear many stories, many tales from many ordinary mundane people, but he will never encounter another customer with an experience quite like the blond customer's strange love story.

And on certain winter nights, when the snow falls softly and thickly, blanketing the city in a white glittering blanket, Sasakura sometimes pause in his duties to look out at the night sky.

Sasakura will never know the blond customer's fate, but he will often pray that somehow, he has met his mysterious redhead man again and regain the happiness of his perfect day.

xXx


End file.
